"Why--Collie!" cried Moore, astounded. "Good Heavens! Don't cry! I--I didn't mean anything. I only wanted to feel you--touch your hand."
"Here," she answered, blindly holding out her hand, groping for his till she found it. Her other was still pressed to her eyes. One moment longer would Columbine keep her secret--hide her eyes--revel in the unutterable joy and sadness of this crisis that could come to a woman only once.
"What in the world?" ejaculated the cowboy, now bewildered. But he possessed himself of the trembling hand offered. "Collie, you act so strange.... You're not crying!... Am I only locoed, or flighty, or what? Dear, look at me."
Columbine swept her hand from her eyes with a gesture of utter surrender.
"Wilson, I'm ashamed--and sad--and gloriously happy," she said, with swift breathlessness.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because of--of something I have to tell you," she whispered.
"What is that?"
She bent over him.
"Can't you guess?"